


you say jump, i say-

by luchiden



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Office, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:01:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24986506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luchiden/pseuds/luchiden
Summary: “Oh- Oh, I, uh-” Dimitri says, eyes dropping down to where Sylvain still has Felix in a vice grip, before immediately snapping up, face so red he must be burning, “Oh, god, I’m- I’m sorry, I didn’t think-”He bends down, picking up the stapler that he had dropped in his surprise, and scurries off, saying nothing else before the door closes with only the metallic ding that echoes through the empty room.“Uh,” Felix says eloquently, “Think we’re fired?”Or, Sylvain has never been able to tell Felix no. It hasn't led him astray yet.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 9
Kudos: 178





	you say jump, i say-

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading this 10k long porn fic <3 before anything thanks to the person who i really want to shower with the corniest nicknames like my star, my guiding light, etc - si @rahmiel, who liked this way more than i did and gave me valuable input such as 'JELS' and 'stop youre making me horny'

Though Sylvain would like to pretend otherwise, the first time it happens, it is entirely unplanned. Not only is it unplanned, at that point they had even been completely unaware of the situation, let alone what it would later bring about. Plan or no plan, it happens like this –

Sylvain and Felix work together. They are coworkers, though that description is entirely insufficient to truly explain the matter. Sylvain and Felix had been friends first, meeting at high school and then going on to study at the same university.

Sylvain had spent a year trying to appease his father by studying political science with varying degrees of success, dropping out and then taking a gap year, and then another gap year. It isn’t that he was not good at it – his grades were alright, if a bit mediocre, and being the Prime Minister’s son truly opened opportunities like no other. Unfortunately for his father, Sylvain had always been a terrible son so signing his papers and dropping out had come with the satisfaction of knowing he had effectively stuck it to his father. However, his newfound limited access to his father’s fund, now that he was more or less cut off, had been the perfect recipe for trouble. When Felix had confided in Sylvain that he was searching for a place near his university to rent, Sylvain had been struck with a brilliant idea. Of course, naturally, he and Felix could room together.

His two gap years had been, for a lack of better word, interesting. Felix had been the perfect roommate, so perfect that each time Sylvain brought somebody home, Felix would make himself so scarce that the girl could even have uninterrupted breakfast the next morning. Sylvain worked as an on-and-off bartender, taking only enough hours each month as to be able to pay rent and food, which meant that he rarely saw Felix, inbetween Felix’s classes and job.

Initially, that was great. Or, well, it was not bad. Felix and Sylvain had been easy friends, despite their vastly different personalities, and while Sylvain missed simply hanging out with Felix, watching stupid shit on TV while trying to throw a popcorn into Felix’s collar, it wasn’t as if Felix’s presence was imperative to Sylvain’s well-being. He just simply missed him. Which, naturally, had been Sylvain’s own fault.

As that left a lot of time for overthinking, thought admittedly, not Sylvain’s forte, he had come to a realization – he kind of really liked dudes. This stark epiphany had come in the middle of his bedroom, with his pants around his ankles, imagining, well. Felix.

He had felt a bit disgusting and a bit more disgusting had been how painfully fast he came after that, letting himself imagine Felix’s mouth around him. He had washed his hands, buckled his belt back up again and told himself, ‘Well, alright. I’m bisexual.’

That had meant nothing else besides the fact that Sylvain had started sleeping around with men as well. It was good, sex was fun and though a bit inexperienced in this particular endeavor, exploring his sexuality had been not only enjoyable but had cemented the fact that, yes, he was bisexual. It had also cemented the knowledge that Sylvain really had it bad for Felix.

Of course, it had been stupid to think that his own feelings would not catch up to him. Felix had never hid anything from him but Sylvain had never asked some things, which is why finding out Felix had a boyfriend had felt like a gut blow, and a bit of unjustified betrayal. Actually, Sylvain had found out later, Ferdinand had not been a ‘boyfriend’, per se, and Felix had been doing what Sylvain had been doing, just in a more subtle manner. While Sylvain slept around, Felix slept around with  _ Ferdinand _ . When the realization hit where Felix had spent all these nights that he did not spend at home (because of himself and his stupid think-with-your-dick tendencies), Sylvain had almost felt like throwing up.

This had resulted in a fight, Felix storming out, Sylvain being pathetic and maybe crying a bit while on the phone with Ingrid, before he had decided to get his shit together and had apologized to Felix. Then he had confessed to Felix. What he had absolutely not expected was for Felix to have feelings for him as well, no doubt due to his bad self-preservation instinct. But he had. Sylvain still kind of cannot believe it.

Afterwards, maybe, had been the happiest Sylvain had ever been. He had applied to Felix’s university with graphic design, had spent hours studying with Felix’s legs locked into his own, had spent maybe equally as much time with his nose buried in Felix’s crotch. He had kissed Felix at every possible opportunity, early morning, late evening, kissed him on the table, kissed him as Felix cooked both of them pasta, and had well-and-truly fallen in love.

Felix had graduated a year before Sylvain, despite being younger, due to the two-year academic gap, and had been accepted into a well-known company, and after Sylvain had graduated, he had applied there as well.

So, yes. Felix and Sylvain are coworkers. They work together and they also live together, and they date. Their coworkers are privy only to the first fact, out of necessity. Of course, it is not like Sylvain cares in particular and they’re not really hiding it but they’re not really flaunting it either. It’s not that they don’t like their coworkers either. Mercedes and Dedue are nothing if not polite and, seeing as Dedue and Ashe definitely have a thing, it is highly unlikely that they’d mind the whole man-man business going on. Dimitri is, well, a bit of a toss up – he’s kind and polite and very, very rich, and also their manager, and also the son of the company owner. Dorothea is the only person that knows and that’s only because she’s known them since college and, well, they really weren’t exactly subtle then.

Honestly, Sylvain thinks, they’re not exactly subtle right now either.

Friday nights are always when the office is emptiest. While most of the general work is done at the office, Dimitri had petitioned early on, right after his dad had sat him at the manager chair, for all of them to be able to work from home whenever possible and whenever each of them wanted. While most of them still worked in the office during the weekend, Fridays had three or four people at most, the rest of them using the opportunity to get some extra rest, which most often included Felix and Sylvain as well.

That’s not the case this Friday.

At eleven past ten in the evening, Dorothea gets up and smacks a lipstick-heavy kiss on Felix’s cheek and says ‘Bye, boys! Don’t stay up till too late.’ Felix flushes a bit and gets up from his desk in search of a paper towel to remove the red kiss mark on his cheek.

“Felix, you’re getting special treatment,” Sylvain whines as he circles around his own desk, accidentally bumping it hard enough to almost topple his monitor over.

“Maybe,” Felix says as he fumbles around and wets the tissue, “If you had not tried to flirt with her in front of her girlfriend the first time you met her, she would also give you the same  _ special _ treatment.”

Sylvain has to admit, that makes sense.

Dorothea and Sylvain’s first meeting ever had went spectacularly. And by that, Sylvain means a total disaster. It had happened while Sylvain was still taking that gap year, still being stupid and oblivious to the raging metaphorical (and sometimes literal) hard-on he had for Felix. For Felix’s twentieth birthday party, he had invited a group of his close friends, none of which Sylvain knew. It had made Sylvain feel a bit like an outsider in his own home and realizing he maybe did not know anything about Felix’s life outside of the perimeters of their shared apartment had stung. Still, Dorothea was pretty and, well, there was no way he knew that the cute, short girl next to her had gotten there before Sylvain had.

The whole spectacle had meant Sylvain was forced to wash out champagne out of his hair while Felix had doubled over on the floor laughing at him.

“Pe-” He had hiccupped, almost crying, “Oh my god, best birthday gift, Petra’s face-”

“I know, Fe,” He had grumbled, “I saw it up close.”

Anyway, that had been fun. More fun had been Ferdinand trying to beat Sylvain in a beer pong contest and then patting his back gently as Sylvain folded over his toilet, and being generally kind and perfect. Fucking prince charming. If Sylvain had not disliked him on principle, he’d have been halfway to smitten with the guy as well.

So, yeah. Dorothea stays in the office on Friday’s since Petra works close by and they act every bit a married couple as they did a few years back, Dorothea picking Petra up each day after work.

That leaves Sylvain and Felix alone, and Sylvain stalks up to Felix, grabbing the paper towel out of his hand, before tossing it somewhere. Felix looks up, surprised, when Sylvain presses his thumb to the red mark on his cheek – it’s low, almost placed on his jaw, and it makes Sylvain feel  _ something _ .

“You look good like this,” He whispers, slowly. Sylvain has always had the height advantage, and though he doesn’t usually care much, now, as he crowds Felix and pushes him backwards, until the back of his thighs hit the edge of the desk, he’s grateful for it.

“Oh, yeah?” Felix replies, one hand behind him, supporting his weight, while he brings up the other one around Sylvain’s neck, “Tell me more. Wanna wear it? Or do you want me to?”

Sylvain leans down, mouth on Felix’s neck, breath hot, before he kisses him in earnest. Felix had been so shy at first, face flushed and warm, when they’d first started out. And yet, when Felix sighs into him and opens his mouth, Sylvain is as in love as he had been the first time, almost hurting with emotions. He smiles and licks into Felix’s mouth, tongue prodding at Felix’s sharp canine.

“Hmm,” Sylvain mutters, pressing a kiss to the corner of Felix’s mouth, “Me? The other option is appealing too, of course. But ah- imagine. You, kissed all over.”

“Is that so.” Felix’s flat tone betrays how the question is not a question at all, but his teeth flash in a way Sylvain has come to recognize as a sign of when Felix is teasing him, “What are you imagining, sucking me off, lipstick around my dick? Wouldn’t that be pretty. ”

Sylvain groans, his dick twitching in his pants. He is suddenly very much aware of how close he is to Felix, and his hands drop down to his waist.

“When,” He whimpers, “When did you learn to talk like that?”

“Mm. You will find that my boyfriend is a bit of a slut, and he’s got a bit of a mouth on him as well.”

Felix’s hands are roaming, untucking his dress shirt from his trousers, his fingers pressing down on Sylvain’s navel, which makes something hot and urgent swirl in his stomach. The hand trails upwards, slowly, bunching up Sylvain’s shirt as it goes before Felix finds what he’s looking for and pinches his nipple. Sylvain, of course, moans.

“Yeah?” Sylvain prompts but he’s already a bit breathless and he also kind of wants to rub his thighs together or rub against Felix or just do  _ something _ , “Is he handsome at least, this boyfriend of yours?”

“What can I say,” Felix mutters as he flicks the pad of his thumb over Sylvain’s nipple which is, by now, hard and perked up, “He’s easy on the eyes.”

Sylvain’s thumbs press into Felix’s sides as he brings him closer, slotting perfectly, and kisses him again, hungry, hungry. He feels like he’s going a bit mad but when his hips twitch and his dick brushes up against Felix who is, for all his cool façade, also as painfully hard as Sylvain is, he kind of can’t bring himself to care. Sylvain has always been loud and Felix has always been quiet so when Felix moans, only barely louder than a huff, Sylvain knows he’s doing something right. He bucks up again and suddenly he’s rutting against Felix. When Felix’s leg slots between his, pressing into his erection with a well muscled thigh, he thinks he might white out for real. Felix bites Sylvain’s lip, only as much pressure as to keep him present. Sylvain’s hand falls to Felix’s belt, trying to undo his zipper while his hands feel as if they’re more or less made entirely out of jelly, pawing fruitlessly until he manages to undo it. Felix sighs in satisfaction but his dick is so hard it’s straining in his underwear. Sylvain’s heart is in his throat.

“Are we-“ Felix writhes under him, breathless, and his sentence is temporarily cut of as he bucks up into the flat of Sylvain’s palm and then moans quietly, “Are we for real going to fuck in the office?”

“I was planning on sucking your dick,” Sylvain replies, hooking a finger in Felix’s waistband, pushing it down until his cock springs free, “And then we can do whatever you want. We’ll figure it out.”

He makes the mistake of looking up at Felix and almost comes in his pants like a repressed prepubescent. Felix looks so, so pretty. The flush dark on his cheeks, eyes so wide it’s impossible to make out iris from pupil, looking up at Sylvain as if through a haze. His mouth is open and red, well-kissed, and his tongue is peeking out, pink and tempting. The kiss mark is still red on his cheek, though smudged almost into a whole different shape.

“Do you plan on doing that in this lifetime or am I supposed to touch myself while you look at me?” He grumbles, and then promptly forgets all of it when Sylvain’s hand wraps around his dick. He groans, louder, and Sylvain can’t wait for the inevitable time when Felix starts keening, begging, halfway to tears.

His thumb flicks over the head, and Felix brings his other arm around Sylvain, burying his head in the crook of Sylvain’s shoulder as he breathes, hot and heavy and so, so good. He’s panting into him, quiet murmurs of his name, as Sylvain twists his hand, all the while twitching against the leg that is still ledged between his own.

He hasn’t even had time to drop to his knees to deliver Felix one of the best blowjobs in his life, second best to only every other blowjob Sylvain has given him, when he hears something thud loudly to their left, and Felix lifts up his head and says, “What the fu-” as Sylvain’s hand stills on his dick. Felix has the audacity to sound annoyed that they’ve been interrupted for a whole two seconds before he realizes his, admittedly, well shaped ass, is pressed against his work desk, and they have been caught almost having sex at their workplace. Fate is a cruel mistress, Sylvain thinks, as his eyes lock with Dimitri’s.

Dimitri, his manager and his boss’ son.

“Oh- Oh, I, uh-” Dimitri says, eyes dropping down to where Sylvain still has Felix in a vice grip, before immediately snapping up, face so red he must be burning, “Oh, god, I’m- I’m sorry, I didn’t think-”

He bends down, picking up the stapler that he had dropped in his surprise, and scurries off, saying nothing else before the door closes with only the metallic ding that echoes through the empty room.

“Uh,” Felix says eloquently, “Think we’re fired?”

“No.” Sylvain kisses him, under his jaw. He’s still rock-hard in his pants. Then, “It probably isn’t the smartest idea to continue this, right?”

Felix huffs, sighing as he lays his head on Sylvain’s shoulder again.

“So,” Felix says in lieu of hello come Monday, once they’ve both arrived at the office, separately.

Of course, that doesn’t have anything to do with last week’s incident – Felix goes to the dojo each Monday, Thursday and Saturday – but if Sylvain were to be honest, meeting up with Dimitri and Felix in the elevator does not really sound like the most appealing option, so he’s only a bit relieved to have avoided it.

And, well, Dimitri is being weird. Weirder than Felix is.

“So,” He answers instead, waiting for Felix – in times like this, pressuring him is the worst course of action, Sylvain has learned.

“So,” Felix repeats instead, buying time, and Sylvain is kind of ready to grab him by the shoulders and rattle the words out of him when Felix mutters quietly, “About Friday. Dimitri.”

Sylvain is aware that Dimitri himself can’t hear them, since their work desks are nowhere in near proximity, but he still feels like he must bring his voice down for this conversation.

Sylvain spares a stray glance towards Dimitri’s desk.

Dimitri used to have an office that used to be the manager’s office – each of the team leaders before had used it, except Dimitri. The moment he became the department’s head, he refurbished it into a meeting room and put his own desk smack at the middle, between Mercedes’ desk and Hilda’s. Sylvain cannot help but respect him, if only because Dimitri does not  _ demand _ their respect. He doesn’t mind any nicknames, which is why Sylvain has taken to calling him ‘little boss’, though he’d never dare call Dimitri’s dad ‘big boss’. While Dimitri often sighs in exasperation and says, ‘Please, just Dimitri is fine.’ he’s never forbidden Sylvain from it.

Dimitri is also looking at him. Sylvain has been promiscuous for twenty-something odd years so, while a bit off-putting, he’s not going to blush or avert his eyes. Dimitri, predictably, does both. Sylvain doesn’t miss the hungry flash in his eyes, looking at Sylvain’s hand that has found its way onto Felix’s thigh. Dimitri’s reaction is, as always, golden.

“You’re being awfully talkative today,” Sylvain mutters, sarcasm evident in his tone, “What is it?”

“He’s, uh,” Felix looks away, bringing a hand up to his flushed neck, “He told me he’d like to have a  _ talk  _ with me.”

The way he puts the emphasis on the word makes Sylvain think that Dimitri didn’t really word it that way, though trying to creatively figure out whatever pompous word Dimitri used to substitute ‘talk’ with is way beyond him.

“Alright.”

“I don’t think we’re fired, though,” He says, clearly not over with whatever he’s trying to say.

Sylvain has always been a bit bad with functioning as most people do. Or rather, filtering out what comes out of his mouth and just generally thinking things through. So nobody can really blame him or be surprised when he nods, then says:

“Yeah, I think he wants to fuck you.”

The way Felix balks against him is so ridiculous he might just damn it all and kiss him there, Dimitri and everybody watching.

“You-” Felix stutters, indignant and flushed, “Are you  _ stupid _ ? At least, here-”

Sylvain turns, and makes a show of looking around the office, even going as far as to put his hand over his eyes, in a really sad attempt at humor. Mercedes is furiously typing something on her keyboard, her normally gentle fingers going a mile a minute. Hilda is, predictably, trying to cover Linhardt’s face in sticky notes while Linhardt himself has fallen asleep, his arm under his head serving as a pillow. Byleth is making funny faces while watching Linhardt get abused like he can’t decide if it’s cute enough to allow it to continue, or if it’s unprofessional enough to go over and break up. Sylvain kind of thinks that the cute will win over.

“I got it, you idiot, nobody’s watching, stop acting stupid,” Felix grumbles, slapping the hand that’s not on his leg, “He doesn’t want to- He doesn’t want to fuck  _ me _ . He is very repressed, first of all, but I think he kind of wants to, you know- fuck  _ us _ .”

“Oh,” Sylvain mutters, “ _ Oh _ .”

“I wanted to ask you,” Felix looks away and places his hand on top of Sylvain’s on his thigh. Sylvain thinks he might even be doing it unknowingly, “If you’d be opposed to, well, propositioning him.”

“You- you want to have a threeway with our boss?”

Despite the way Sylvain’s various sexual exploits, it would be incorrect to consider him particularly adventurous. He’s had a lot of boring missionary sex, and only occasionally something more interesting, but for the most part it’s been almost unvaried. There’d not been much in the way of exploring, when the people did not stick around enough to have a talk about boundaries.

Unsurprisingly, sex with Felix had turned out, speaking plainly, amazing. Not only because Sylvain was finally sleeping with somebody he actually had feelings for, though that had definitely been part of it, but because Felix had been very keen to explore various different things with him. Felix had said, ‘With you. I only trust you like this.’ and Sylvain may have or may have not spent the entirety of that evening hanging off Felix like another limb.

So it’s not entirely unexpected it is Felix that brings it up, rather than Sylvain.

Dimitri is, well, obviously handsome. And he’s  _ huge _ . He’s not that much taller than Sylvain is, honestly, but he’s so fit that Sylvain sometimes can’t help but notice the buttons of his shirt straining. There’s something endearing about such a big man flushing down to his neck when Sylvain winks at him. He finds, with little surprise, that he's not entirely opposed to the idea.

"Because I'm in," He says again and grins. Felix's exasperated but fond face betrays his relief.

  
  


Dimitri taps his shoulder at half-past twelve, right as Felix is taking his break, crouched over the coffee machine, which has run out of coffee beans, again. He thinks, really, that somebody is drinking way too much coffee if Felix has to fill up the damn thing twice during only his own shift but that’s their problem and, probably, their health hazard.

Dimitri taps his shoulder, gently, as not to startle him, and says, “I apologise, Felix, could you meet me at the conference room?”

“Yea,” He grumbles, not looking up, “You go. I’ll come in five.”

“Need any help?” Dimitri asks and Felix spares a glance at him, still holding onto the bag of coffee beans.

“Uh, what, with this? No, I’m fine, I’ll be there in a bit.”

Dimitri shuffles around a bit more in a somewhat nervous manner, before he nods. He pats Felix’s shoulder again but his hand lingers - not enough to be considered weird, or generally be noticeable, but just enough that Felix knows, even if Dimitri doesn’t really.

When he goes, Felix finishes up and makes himself a coffee. Then he stands around, just for the pleasure of making Dimitri wait, imagining him pacing around the conference table. He would be loath to admit it, but the waiting gives Felix enough time to steel himself as well. When he’s deemed it’s enough time for Dimitri to have become notably jumpy, he puts his cup down and bypasses Sylvain, who looks up at him askew, before making a beeline for where Dimitri is.

The blinds are pulled down but the door is slightly ajar. Felix knocks, customarily, before he enters and shuts the door behind him. Dimitri is standing, twisting his hands nervously, and Felix finds it a bit funny. He is literally Felix’s superior. He literally could make Felix’s life hell. Yet, he’s acting as if he’s the one about to be given a talk to about proper office etiquette.

“Hey, Dimitri,” He says, because Felix might be one of the only people that refer to him by name, as he asked them to.

“Felix, please,” Dimitri gesticulates to one of the chairs, “Have a seat.”

Felix thinks of refusing for a second because, for all of his seemingly uninterested behavior, he is actually very jittery himself, and he’s not entirely sure he could sit still if he wanted to. But he thinks against it, obliging, and taking a seat at the table, Dimiri sitting on the opposite side.

“I’d first like to say that you’re not in trouble,” He breathes out the words, as if he’s glad he managed to get them out in one sentence. Felix can see him bouncing his leg underneath the table - the flex of his thigh is distracting, “About that-”

“Look,” Felix says and snaps his eyes back to Dimitri’s face, open and honest, “I want to say we’re- we apologise. It was unprofessional, yes, and we weren’t really thinking. So while I’m very glad we are not fired or anything, still, it was not- it wasn’t the smartest thing.”

Felix has never been very good at reading people, the way Sylvain has, the way he still is. Sylvain’s intuition and insight had always impressed Felix, which had later turned to annoyance when Sylvain had been able to read  _ him  _ perfectly as well. And while Sylvain had spent the most part of his life ignoring his better judgement on his grand quest to self destruct, Felix admits that it is a good trait to have when dating Felix in particular.

Still, it takes no genius to figure out the look in Dimitri’s eyes. His gaze trails down the line of Felix’s neck and Felix allows him, until Dimitri snaps himself out of it and flushes. He’s probably thinking ‘ _ this is not proper behaviour towards my employees _ ’ or something equally as stupid.

“It’s fine, you don’t have to apologise, Felix,” He mutters and his hands twitch, like he’s contemplating whether he should reach out to Felix or not, “As long as it does not, well,  _ affect  _ your performance, I-”

“I’m sorry but,” Felix interrupts, “Do you think mine and Sylvain’s performance has ever been lacking?”

“I-, well, no, you’ve both been dedicated and good at your job.”

“Great, then,” He concludes, “Because we have already been dating for a while.”

“Oh,” Dimitri says and his voice is weird, a strange sort of standoffishness and apprehension, and something else, “Since when have you...”

“Since before either of us started working here.”

Dimitri unclasps his hands, his knuckles white from how he had been clenching them, and places them flat on the table, rising up from his chair.

“Alright, then, good talk,” He says in a tone that makes Felix feel like the talk was definitely not  _ good _ , “That was all. Thank you, Felix.”

Before he can take a step, however, Felix grasps his wrist. He knows, if he wished to, Dimitri could pull out of it - Felix is not trying to force him to stay or do anything, and even if he were, he’s got the creeping suspicion Dimitri might be just as strong, if not stronger, than him, despite Felix’s many hours at the dojo.

“Wait, Dimitri,” Felix says, and he’s surprised at the way his voice has become higher, as if he’s trying to plead with Dimitri, surprised by his own desires, “I’d like to ask you something.”

Dimitri makes a weird noise, eyes glued to where Felix’s hand is pressed to his wrist, but he doesn’t try to move. Felix feels like his own face is red, his confidence suddenly escaping him.

“This might be one of the weirdest things I’ve said to you and you’re absolutely free to say no but-” He breathes in through his nose.  _ Rip the bandage off _ , Sylvain loves to say, “Would you like to come to our place later?”

“What for?”

“What for-” Felix repeats, surprised at how Dimitri hasn’t already caught on what this is all about, “Am I really supposed to say it?”

At Dimitri’s huff of confusion, Felix shakes his head.

“Dimitri,” He mutters, “Sylvain and I would like to- would you like to have sex?”

Felix cringes at his own wording but, well. There it is, out in the open. Dimitri’s face morphs into absolute lack of expression, dangerously blank, his eyes boring into Felix, heavy, but he doesn’t say anything, stays frozen and quiet. Felix feels like he’s been burned. He lets Dimitri’s arm go, wishing he’d never been born on this earth.

“Well,” He says, trying to keep his composure, though he’s pretty sure his eyes are about to pop out of their sockets, “I appear to have misread everything, I will- uh-”

He makes for the door, trying to escape as fast as possible, before he does something else like bash his head so hard against the glass surface of the conference room table that they are forced to wheel him out to the ER. Would it be considered workplace injury? He could definitely get compensated if they’re forced to remove office room glass from his forehead, right? He’s already thinking of the pros and cons.

“Felix, wait, please,“ Dimitri mutters, and his tone of voice makes something in Felix seize, refusing to deny Dimitri anything, “You didn’t- you didn’t misread anything.”

Felix turns slowly, to the sight of Dimitri, and it’s a familiar sight - Dimitri has flushed down to his neck, eyes darting, refusing to meet Felix’s searching gaze.

“I didn’t think I was that obvious,” Dimitri says, his body locked up in the way it regularly is, tension visible through every movement, “But if the offer still stands, I would like that very much.”

To anybody else, Dimitri would seem his perfect normal self, as much as anything about Dimitri could be called normal. But Felix sees his eyes, dark and deep, something unknowable. His pulse spikes, and he nods, then gives Dimitri a small smile before he slips out of the room, leaving Dimitri as he is.

  
  


Two days later, Sylvain’s phone vibrates in his back pocket while he is rummaging through his drawers, trying to locate his glasses. They’re only reading glasses and it’s not like he needs them urgently or generally that much, especially when he does still wear contact lenses when necessary, but he’s definitely not looking forward to having to call Felix and ask him where he put his own things. While their flat is always clean, laundry always ironed and folded, it’s always Felix that knows exactly where this or that knick-knack is, even when it is Sylvain that had accidentally put the ibuprofen in the cupboard, right on top of the pile of dinner plates, because he was getting out a glass and he left it there briefly but then forgot to-. Anyway. Sylvain is easily distracted.

He gives up on finding anything, patting his butt mindlessly until he manages to grab his phone.

Unlocking it opens up a message from an unknown number but it makes his pulse jump anyway.

The message itself is stupidly brief, only a ‘ _ Hey, Sylvain, this is Dimitri. _ ’ and it should definitely not be provoking the kind of reaction it is. But Sylvain also knows that Dimitri doesn’t actually have his phone number - he’s sure Dimitri hadn’t asked any of his coworkers, out of sheer embarrassment, and he’d not asked Felix, because Felix would have told him. Which, naturally, means Dimitri found his number by opening up his employee information and this small act of impropriety makes Sylvain giddy.

He answers with a brief, ‘ _ hey boss, whats up _ ’, even though he knows what’s up. Dimitri appears to be one of these people that type a three-word reply for an annoyingly long time. Sylvain gets used to seeing Dimitri typing, then stopping, then typing again only to say, “ _ Are you both free Saturday? _ ”

Texting Dimitri is a bit of a pain and a bit of fun, and well, nobody ever said Sylvain didn’t have a masochistic streak in him. They settle on a day and time, and then Sylvain proceeds to push his luck by messaging Dimitri vaguely inappropriate but not full-on out of line things (‘ _ what do you think about sexy nurse outfits? i think i could totally rock one _ ’) until Dimitri is forced to message him “ _ Sylvain!!! I am working! _ ”. Sylvain counts the three exclamation marks as a win and puts his phone down.

When Felix comes home later, and eventually pushes a hand into Sylvain’s pants, hooking two fingers into him, his surprised gasp delights Sylvain to no end.

“Are you  _ waxed _ ?” He asks, breathless and half-affronted, and Sylvain laughs.

He is but that’s not the point. He mutters, “Maybe. Saw you bought condoms, though.”

“Shut up.”

  
  


Dimitri rings up their doorbell at precisely seven. Sylvain decides to spare Felix and hops to open the door, only because Felix appears to be too preoccupied with trying to look like he’s not about to burst a blood vessel.

There’s only a brief moment of hesitation before he swings the door open. Dimitri looks- like usual. Sylvain isn’t exactly sure what he’d expected. His shirt’s still high-collared, though he’s rolled up the sleeves, and he’s wearing jeans, fitted snugly to his legs. His naked forearms and tight pants only serve to make him look bigger. He’s also tied up his bangs, and he’s almost painfully handsome, his face open and unguarded. He’s worrying his lip between his teeth so Sylvain smiles, trying to put him at ease. Dimitri looks at him appreciatively, from head to toe, licking his lips, before he lifts his gaze back to Sylvain’s face.

“Hey, Dimitri,” He greets, stepping aside to let him in. The name is foreign in his mouth but he doesn’t think Dimitri would take kindly to having Sylvain call him ‘boss’ under the circumstances.

Unless he likes it. Maybe he’d be in for some weird office roleplay. But that’s a thought for another time.

“Hey, Sylvain, thank you for-” He replies, trying to disguise the fact that he’s looking around their flat curiously. His eyes fall on Felix and whatever the end of that sentence was supposed to be, Sylvain will now never know.

“Hi,” Felix greets stiffly, from where he’s sitting down on the couch, “Want a beer?”

And suddenly all of it is way less awkward as Dimitri smiles briefly, shaking his head, and he lets out a relieved sigh. Sylvain isn’t sure if Dimitri doesn’t drink alcohol at all or if he simply would like to be present for this. He doesn’t move but he also doesn’t jump when Sylvain pats his shoulder.

“No, thank you,” He replies, “Water? If that’s alright, of course.”

Sylvain smiles, going to fill a glass, only briefly debating whether he should offer ice as well or not, before returning with it a second later. Dimitri takes two sips then puts it down on the coffee table, on top of one of their coasters, turning to briefly smile at Sylvain in lieu of thanks.

Before Sylvain can think against it, he leans down, placing a brief kiss against Dimitri’s mouth, swiping his tongue over Dimitri’s lips as they part.

Dimitri’s startled eyes turn to hunger in a second, pupils blown wide, and the change gives Sylvain whiplash. It also makes heat shoot throughout him.

“It is alright if you don’t want to,” Sylvain mutters despite himself, “It’s alright if you changed your mind and just want to sit down and watch ‘The Good Place’ with us, and eat popcorn or something.”

In his peripheral vision he sees Felix’s face go blank and then he nods. With the way Dimitri is having trouble dividing his attention between the two of them, Sylvain’s sure he notices Felix’s reaction as well. Not that there was ever any doubt - Felix is not one to pressure anybody into anything.

But Dimitri gasps like he’s been burned, then his hands find purchase at Sylvain’s sides, fisting the material of his shirt loosely, as if he’s afraid to lay his palms entirely against his waist, but Sylvain feels the heat of his body nevertheless. He leans down cautiously, pressing his lips to Sylvain’s, only for a second.

“No,” Dimitri croaks out when he leans back away, “No, I  _ want  _ to.”

“Well, then,” Sylvain says, because nobody else seems to, “Bed?”

Dimitri nods, eyes transfixed to Sylvain’s cupid bow where his tongue darts out to lick, thoroughly charmed. His eyes flicker to Felix’s and Felix is watching them, spine taut with tension, flushed across his high cheekbones.

When Sylvain saunters across the living room and slips into the bedroom, both of them follow him, magnetized. Sylvain tries to shake himself out of whatever has overtaken him, taking the lead in the only way he can. He sits down on the bed, patting the place next to himself as he reaches for Felix’s wrist and pulls him down, one of his knees between his parted legs.

“Hey, babe,” He says, smooth in a way he can only manage when he’s pretending he’s in control.

Felix must see it in him, because he smirks a bit, leaning down to kiss his jaw. He smells of the shampoo they both use, freshly showered, and something that is distinctly Felix. It does wonders to calm Sylvain down, inevitably. Before he knows it, Sylvain’s hands are grabbing at Felix’s shirt, trying to pull it off of him, Felix following his lead as he most often does. He raises his hands obediently and emerges from the collar of his shirt, his hair mussed up.

Dimitri is still standing at the side of the bed, tense as he watches Felix’s shirt abandoned somewhere on the floor. Sylvain may be a bit nervous but nobody said he was not an attention whore. Actually, he thinks, a few people might have said he was just that. It is only natural, then, that his arms envelop Felix’s now naked midriff, the curve of his smile buried into Felix’s collarbone, eyes glinting dangerously, showing off. Sylvain knows what Dimitri is seeing - it’s the same vision that drives Sylvain to madness half the time, after all. Felix’s strong profile, eyes half-closed and hazy, the strong line of his shoulders, his hair in a high ponytail, the curve of his spine. His strong legs, his, frankly, unfairly pretty backside. Mostly, how he is reacting despite himself, skin flushed underneath Sylvain’s palms. It is an awed revelation each time.

“Pretty, isn’t he?” Sylvain taunts, eyes finding Dimitri’s like a beacon, “Was his idea to invite you. Not that I mind but, ah-” Sylvain smirks as his right hand follows the line of Felix’s spine, his hand dipping into the waistband of his pants. He ignores the choked noise of protest Felix makes against his neck, “He  _ really  _ wanted you to say yes.”

“Sylvain-” Felix begins, but Sylvain doesn’t really let him protest, licking into his skin, and Felix gasps. And anyway, Felix definitely doesn’t mind it that much, it seems - Sylvain has made sure Felix knows he would stop if he told him no.

Dimitri makes a weird choking sound, looking at them as if he doesn’t know where to look, like he’s living out a fantasy, mouth half-parted, the blue in his eyes narrowed down to a thin ring.

He swallows before he finds his words, “And you?”

“Me?” Sylvain repeats before it clicks, “Of course I wanted you to say yes. Come here and I’ll show you how much.”

And that seems to throw Dimitri into motion, scrambling to get to where they are, setting himself next to them, a hand reaching out to trace Sylvain’s forearm, inching closer until they’re in the same space, breathing the same air.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Dimitri,” Felix gasps, “ _ Touch me _ .”

And Dimitri doesn’t need any more instruction, it seems, as his free hand grabs Felix’s face between his strong fingers, and then kisses him. Sylvain frees up a hand in order to snake it under his shirt, placing it on his warm, firm stomach, as if a promise. Dimitri’s muscles jump underneath his fingers, and his chest rumbles with the groan he only half-makes. Sylvain watches them, hypnotized. 

Dimitri’s different than he was with Sylvain, the kiss longer, more desperate. When Felix parts his lips, leading Dimitri into it, Dimitri follows, tongue swiping over Felix’s bottom lip before he gently tugs at it. Felix’s hips twitch underneath Sylvain’s palm, and Sylvain himself hates the fabric keeping him from touching them. Felix’s eyes are only half closed, long eyelashes casting shadow over his cheekbones, but he’s still watching Dimitri, just like Sylvain catches him watching sometimes when it’s them kissing.

Sylvain has never been much for patience, so when he tugs Dimitri’s shirt, they’re forced to break off so Dimitri can raise his hands and let Sylvain get the shirt off, the entire expanse of his torso exposed. It doesn’t come as a surprise that Dimitri is extremely fit, his stomach dusted with the same golden-blond hairs, disappearing under his waistband. He is disarmingly gorgeous, eyes hazy and mouth red. Felix seems to think so as well, pressing another kiss to his parted lips.

“No, no,” Sylvain interrupts, “Pants off first, kiss after.”

Dimitri’s fingers fly down to Felix’s belt, rather than his own, unbuttoning them with only the faintest of hitches, and Felix groans in dissatisfaction but maneuvers himself around, sitting, in order to get them off.

He turns to Sylvain, a furrow in his brow, that truly doesn’t match the way Sylvain can see he’s already painfully hard. Sylvain is barely different, the heat pooling between his legs so insistent, making it hard to think through the thick haze of it.

“You too,” Felix slurs, “Undress.”

“Oh, of course, Fe,” He says, laying his fingers on Felix’s now naked thigh, thumb pressing high into his hip, “You just have to ask.”

“I'm asking now, aren't I?” He says, indignant as ever, and Sylvain just smiles, catching Dimitri’s eye to ensure he is looking, before he moves it up and palms Felix’s clothed erection.

Whatever level-headed facade Felix was going for is promptly forgotten, too preoccupied with the involuntary gasp that breaks out of him, fever-hot. Dimitri’s reaction is golden, his breath hitching, his eyes gone dark. Sylvain’s eyes flick down between his legs, to his obvious erection.

“Well, Dimitri?” Sylvain asks, his hand pushing down the waistband of Felix’s underwear, and then Felix is gloriously naked, soft underneath his hands, “How do you want this?”

It takes Dimitri a second, shifting uncomfortably, to drag his eyes away from Felix. Sylvain is still dressed entirely, hovering over him, and he can only imagine the type of vision they are. Sylvain’s never been shy, aware of the way he looks, and he  _ knows  _ Felix is gorgeous.

“Me?”

“Yes, big guy, you,” Sylvain laughs, leaning down over Felix, who is growing impatient, dick flushed red and hard against his stomach, “You’re a guest.”

“I don’t have a lot of,” He says, eyes cast downward in what is obviously embarrassment. Sylvain wants to kiss it out of him, fuck him until he forgets about being shy. “Experience.”

“How much is not much?” Felix says, callous, but he’s also lain a hand on Dimitri’s calf reassuringly.

“I’ve-I have had sex, just, not recently?” He says it like a question, as if asking them if that’s acceptable, “Or, well, just not often.”

“That’s fine,” Sylvain says, quiet and calming. He sees Dimitri relaxing into the feel of Felix’s touch on his leg, “That’s perfectly fine. Tell me what you want?”

“I want-,” He growls, and Sylvain sees his composure slip, ‘I-’

“Yeah?” Sylvain prompts, impatient, pushing his leg between Felix’s, his knee pressing onto Felix’s groin, and Felix gasps, back arching into it, closing his eyes. The hand that’s on Dimitri’s leg squeezes, “Tell me. Want to fuck me? I could suck you off before that or  _ you  _ could- if you wanted to.”

Dimitri moans, red-faced as he watches Felix shallowly rocking against Sylvain’s leg. It occurs to him how similar this must seem to how Dimitri caught them first.

“Or,” Sylvain begins, and he already knows the answer, “You could have Felix fuck  _ you _ ? I promise, he’s good, I promise, he’s  _ so  _ good, sometimes it’s hard to remember anything when he’s-”

Dimitri makes a gutted noise, quiet, but the pure want in his eyes tells Sylvain enough, “Please. Yes, please, I-”

“Dimitri,” Felix says, breathless, posing his name as if a question, “Kiss me again?”

And Dimitri does, huffing something that could have been passed off as a laugh at how impatient Felix is getting, hand trailing down to pinch his nipple, as he licks into Felix’s mouth. Sylvain makes quick work of his own shirt, then pants. Felix makes a small sound when Sylvain moves away but he is back just as quickly.

"Top drawer," Felix breathes out when Dimitri lowers his head to kiss along his jaw, Dimitri's big hand trailing down Felix's navel.

Sylvain doesn't think twice, fishing out the lube and condoms, pressing them into Felix's open hand. When he twists around, Dimitri is so close behind him, open-mouthed and ready, reverent in the same way he was with Felix. Sylvain feels Dimitri’s cock pressing through his jeans against the back of his naked thigh, hot and insistent, and he rocks back into it, startling Dimitri into a moan.

“Come on,” Felix beckons and uncaps the lube, looking at Sylvain pointedly as if he’s the one about to get pounded.

Felix does not give Dimitri any chance for self consciousness - once the offensive pants are gone, Felix positions Dimitri on his knees and stands behind him, mouthing at his shoulder, asking, ‘Alright?’ as he lubes up his fingers.

“Yes, yes, Felix, come on-” Dimitri begs. Sylvain shouldn’t find it so hot, but he also knows Felix, his urgent, searching fingers, the white-hot pleasure of it.

When Felix pushes a finger into him, finally, Dimitri’s surprised gasp makes Sylvain flush. It’s different like this. Dimitri is still notably himself, and he’s just as gorgeous naked, his cock big, and flushed, and leaking, eyes unfocused, looking at Sylvain as he’s trying to accommodate to the feeling of Felix. Sylvain can’t help it, not with the way he can’t think over the arousal - kissing Dimitri comes just as naturally as anything.

Dimitri kisses him back, urgently, and groans into his mouth when Felix pushes a second finger in, rocking back gently. His strong arms come up to pull Sylvain closer, the kiss a mess of tongue and teeth, Dimitri almost unable to keep his attention to one thing. When he eventually moans, deep in his chest, throwing his head back, Sylvain cannot help but bite into his neck, possessive.

“That good, huh,” Sylvain says, voicing what Dimitri can’t, “He’s so good, you know the first time we did it this way I came just from that? He wasn’t even touching me, just his fingers, I-”

He’s talking, each word a kiss - his mouth,then down his neck, Sylvain’s hot tongue flicking over a nipple before he folds his mouth over it, humming softly. The pressure between his own legs is driving him half-mad but it is far more urgent to do this, to touch, to feel  _ this _ .

“Sylvain, I-  _ ah _ ,” He grinds out, his clouded gaze following Sylvain, searing, as his cock twitches against his belly, “Oh.”

“Told you I’d blow you, didn’t I?” He breathes into Dimitri’s skin, mouth hot into the crease of his thigh. He’s about to make this as painfully good as he can.

Dimitri looks at him askew, as if to establish that Sylvain didn’t actually promise anything of the sort, but the blank, blissful expression he assumes once Sylvain’s mouth is on his dick is enough for Sylvain to count it as a win.

Dimitri, it appears, is big, like everything else about him. Sylvain licks a long stripe, breath hot as he spreads his own legs, trying to accommodate to the feeling of his own maddening arousal. He breathes in through his nose as he takes Dimitri into his mouth, closing his eyes as he goes. Dimitri sobs into his fist, lips parted.

His dick twitches in Sylvain’s mouth as Sylvain hollows out his cheeks, sinking down. His heart is a roar in his ears, wishing to be good, wishing Dimitri to think of this days and days after he’s back at his desk, helplessly typing work reports, hard in his pants as he looks at Sylvain’s mouth across the room. Sylvain moans at the thought, bobbing his head as he comes up, swallowing, tongue probing at the slit, before he’s back at it, rutting shallowly against the mattress if only to feel some sort of relief.

And Sylvain must admit, he really likes this. He’s good at it, he knows, out of practice and sheer enthusiasm, stretching his mouth hot and wet, drool pooling in his mouth as he presses his tongue flat on the underside of Dimitri’s cock.

Dimitri, for his part, reacts exactly as Sylvain wished him to - he’s quiet in a way that says if he were not so reserved, he’d be loud. He gasps, then flushes, moans looking as if he’s angry at his own body for the involuntary noises he can’t help but make. He rocks into Sylvains mouth without meaning to, hot and wet and needy, saying, ‘Oh, oh, God-’, while Felix works three fingers into him. Sylvain casts a glance upwards, and Dimitri’s eyes are bottomless, and he sees Felix’s mouth moving. Whatever Felix is whispering in Dimitri’s ear, it is most definitely about Sylvain - Dimitri’s gaze is heavy and searching underneath the brush of his lashes, as Felix flicks out his tongue to catch the lobe of his ear.

Dimitri’s hips twitch helplessly underneath Sylvain’s hands and he says, “No-Sylvain, I- stop or I will-” as he closes his eyes.

If it were any other day, Sylvain would close his eyes and not move. As it is, he pops off Dimitri’s cock, and looks up. If he can have this only once, he’s about to make it as good as possible.

“You-” Dimitri says, voice cracking, but he’s already reaching for Sylvain, “You look-  _ Shit- _ ”

“Yeah?” Sylvain prompts, finally, getting his hand on himself. He’s momentarily blinded by pleasure, unable to form the rest of what he was about to say, “What- Did you imagine this? After you saw us?”

“Yeah, yes, of course-” He moans as Felix pulls out his fingers, baring his neck as he rests his head back on Felix’s shoulder, “You- wanted you both, thought about it, touched myself, I-”

“Dimitri,” Felix slurs as he pours lube in his hand hastily, “You okay?”

Dimitri maneuvers himself, Felix pressed to his back, while still facing Sylvain and Sylvain realizes Dimitri means to  _ ride  _ Felix.

And Dimitri can barely get a word out, but he nods, “Yes, come on.”

“Alright,” Felix manages but only so as he grips himself in his hand, lines up and rocks his hips into Dimitri.

Dimitri, for his part, goes boneless and slumps into Sylvain’s arms, gasping hotly against him. The stretch must be uncomfortable with Dimitri’s apparent inexperience, Sylvain knows, though not entirely unpleasant, Dimitri’s dick still red and flushed, and leaking.

“Good,” He whispers into the crease of his shoulder, “Good, good, you’re doing so good, we’re going to make you feel amazing.”

Felix gives Dimitri time to accommodate, pressing his forehead into the nape of his neck, closing his eyes in a way that tells Sylvain more than any words could. Sylvain reaches out, pressing his palm into Felix’s waist, grounding him, Dimitri pressed between them both. Dimitri’s making these naked noises every time he moves, trying to press back. When he finally bottoms out, Sylvain’s heart leaps into his throat and he swallows thickly at the way Dimitri is gripping his sides, fingers pressing into him.

He suddenly realizes how vulnerable he feels, how vulnerable they all feel. He presses a kiss to the corner of Dimitri’s mouth before he pulls away and leans over to kiss Felix as well.

“Love you,” He murmurs and feels Dimitri jump in his arms, and he smirks. He knows that Felix knows what he’s doing - his small, self-satisfied smile tells him as much.

“Mm,” Felix says, eyes blown wide with pleasure, hips straining with the need to stop himself from fucking into Dimitri, “Me too.”

“Ready?” Sylvain murmurs, a hand brushing out the strands of hair that have fallen into Dimitri’s face.

“Please,” He breathes out and the breath gives way to a moan once Felix snaps his hips, finally.

Felix's pace is brutal, no matter how much he tries to slow down. He groans, gripping Dimitri’s hips until his knuckles are white, driving into him. Dimitri doesn’t seem to mind, though he’s unable to match Felix’s pace, bouncing into his lap, head lolling back as he exposes the long column of his neck to Sylvain. Sylvain can’t help it - it’s something out of a dream, Felix’s burning eyes as he watches Sylvain while he roughly fucks into Dimitri who, for his part, is absolutely dazed, going all the more aroused with each thrust.

“I-ah-” He sobs out, his dick red and flushed and leaking, and he’s having a hard time forming a whole sentence. Felix is not giving him a moment to do it, probably enjoying the novelty of it, the fact that Dimitri seems to enjoy this so much he can barely get a word out. “I- Sylvain-”

He’s a pin-up boy, so pretty it should be fake, face burning, eyes hazy and half-out of it. He’s a wet fantasy, and it’s all the better because it’s Felix that is behind him, driving into him with resolve, and Sylvain has always been a sucker for Felix anyway.

“Yeah?” Sylvain asks, belatedly, as if realizing just now that his name had been spoken, “Yeah, tell me what you want.”

But Dimitri must not know either or must not know how to ask for it, because he only leans down and licks across Sylvain’s mouth messily. Sylvain lets him do all of it, leans into it as Dimitri bites his tongue, as he drives his hips backward into Felix, crying out into it. Felix has always tried to keep quiet, always tried to not look he’s enjoying it as much as he is, but even he’s beyond modestly, panting like his heart is in overdrive, eyes dark and wild as he slides almost entirely out, keeping Dimitri suspended for a second, before he drives his dick back in, punching the air out of both of them and Sylvain as well.

Sylvain doesn’t break the kiss, letting Dimitri do what he wants, as he gropes around for the lube they threw around somewhere, lathering up his hand and gripping himself. It’s a bit cold, a bit unnatural, and the pressure almost makes him weep in relief. When he presses himself against Dimitri, urgently, Dimitri can only get a surprised choke out before it tail-ends into a moan.

“Oh,” He says, “Oh, fuck, yes.”

And Sylvain doesn’t think he’s ever heard Dimitri swear apart from tonight but he resolves to make him swear a few more times if he can help it. He wraps his hand around them both and Dimitri tenses up like a string, body taut with pleasure. He can’t fully circle them both but he fucks into his hand nevertheless, sliding wetly alongside, and his face goes slack with pleasure, having barely touched himself at all. Dimitri is a bit louder, saying their names like a mantra, unable to choose who he should call out to, unable to choose whether he should rock back on Felix’s cock or into Sylvain. He chooses to bring one of his own hands atop Sylvain’s, hot and heavy and bigger than his own.

Sylvain brings his free hand down, presses two fingers into Dimitri’s perineum before he settles on where he is stretched open and loose, dripping lube all over Felix’s dick. He hooks a finger inside of him, just to feel Felix move against it, and the angle is awkward but Felix moans like he’s been gutted and Dimitri shudders into his arms.

“I’m- Felix, I-”

“Yes,” Felix responds automatically, removing his hand from where it’s left a finger-shaped bruise into Dimitri’s hip, trailing up to cup his chest, rolling a nipple between his forefinger and thumb.

“You look so good, Dima,” Sylvain prompts, pressing his cheek against the side of Dimitri’s face, littering unfocused kisses, murmuring into his skin, as Dimitri leaks precome all over his hand, “Look so good, you’ve been so good, so pretty, all buttoned up but you look all lewd right now.”

“Sylvain,” Dimitri warns and his voice is grainy, like he’s trying to hold back the word, a few tones lower, “I’m going to-”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sylvain agrees, “Come for us?”

And well - it takes only a few more well-timed thrusts before Dimitri’s rhythm breaks and he full-body shudders, coming all over their joined hands, moaning in a way that almost makes Sylvain himself come. Felix slows down though his pained expression means he’s painfully close to the edge and it’s the furthest from what he wants to do.

“Oh, shit,” Dimitri says, “Fuck. Felix, keep- ah- keep going.”

“You-” Felix grits out, “Are you sure? I will- I’ll stop if it’s too much.”

“No, I- I  _ want  _ to.”

And that’s all the encouragement Felix needs before he’s kissing Dimitri’s neck, sucking bruises into him as if he wants it to be hard for Dimitri to find a shirt that hides them all. He rocks back and Dimitri’s punched out gasps betray how overstimulated he is, but his eyes betray how much he doesn’t really mind it, how much he seems to be enjoying feeling as full as he feels.

“Gods,” Felix says, past the point of dishonesty, “If you only knew how you feel, so good, so warm.”

And it’s soon that Felix gasps, more quiet than Dimitri, but there’s no mistaking it as his hips stutter and he comes.

There’s only the sound of heavy breathing and warmth as they settle, Felix plastered to Dimitri’s back as if he suddenly forgot how limbs work. He pulls out gingerly, tossing the condom and then fishes out a tissue and hands it to Sylvain wordlessly, who cleans out his own hand, then Dimitri’s.

“Oh,” Dimitri says once he has regained some of his higher brain function.

“Yeah,” Felix agrees and falls back on the bed, taking them both with him, “That’s about right.”

He leans over and places a kiss on Sylvain’s mouth, incredibly tender. Sylvain wonders if he should feel jealous or if Felix feels jealous or if Dimitri’s presence should feel like an intrusion. But he doesn’t and it doesn’t and by the look of it Felix doesn’t feel so either - the certainty of their relationship feels all the bigger now.

“You’re still hard,” Dimitri remarks, trailing a hand down his chest in a sort of awed, blissed afterglow.

Dimitri, who is usually so bodily tensed up, so tight-laced and nervous, looks like he would melt into the bed if he could, relaxed in the syrupy post-coital feeling, thoroughly fucked out and flushed. He’s blinking slowly, sleepily.

“Really? Hadn’t noticed.”

“Can I blow you?” He asks and maybe he’s more loose-lipped after everything, in the halo of intimacy.

“You don’t have to ask,” Felix purrs from behind, placing his hand atop Dimitri’s, “He waxed just for you.”

“Thank you for sharing this, Felix,” Sylvain pouts, but even he cannot deny it, dick curved against his belly, smearing precome.

This is how he finds himself, half sitting up, Dimitri naked between his legs.

“Like this,” Felix says, and then he’s guiding Dimitri’s hand, “He likes it slow. Take your time.”

And then Dimitri’s breath is hot on him, eyes downcast, as his tongue presses underside his dick before his mouth follows. Sylvain had tried to distract himself from the overwhelming want all night but here, like this, with Dimitri’s lips stretched around him, his thighs bracketing his perfect head, the way Felix gets up and drapes himself over him, pressing his mouth to his neck, he forgets coherence all together. Sylvain fists a hand into Dimitri’s hair, already in such disarray.

Sylvain keens, as he twitches helplessly, and smartly says, “Fuck.”

Dimitri bobs his head down, trying to take him in further, until Sylvain’s dick hits the back of his throat and Sylvain sees stars and all that corny jazz. Dimitri is a bit inexperienced, a bit shy, but he makes up for it all with simply the cockhungry, burning way he looks up at them. Sylvain smiles a bit, tugging at Felix until he kisses him properly, pulling away his hair tie, letting his hair spill in a silky waterfall. Dimitri makes a weird sound on his dick, breathing in through his nose, and Sylvain honestly can sympathize.

Felix doesn’t seem to mind and he kisses him fully, tongue driving searching into his mouth as Dimitri comes up to prob at his slit, then swallows back down. Sylvain rocks into it shallowly, trying not to overwhelm him, trying not to make him take more than he can handle. His gut is a fire, low and urgent, and his nerve endings are alight, making it hard to think past the fog of lust and pleasure.

“Dima,” He says breathlessly and Dimitri makes a stupid choked up sound at the name, “This is all wonderful but I am very- _ ah- _ very close so-”

Dimitri looks at him, understanding, before he blinks slowly and redoubles his efforts, hollowing his cheeks out, mouth red and wet, humming around his dick.

“Oh, god,” He says, inbetween kissing Felix. He curls his fingers tightly into Dimitri’s hair, helplessly closing his eyes as his belly coils and he comes with an open-mouthed moan. Dimitri, mortifyingly, swallows.

He doesn’t realize he still has his eyes closed until the bed dips besides them with Dimitri’s weight a moment after. They stay like that for a bit, breathing heavily, settling.

“Come here,” He beckons, and Dimitri does so easily, fitting inbetween them like a puzzle piece. Sylvain brings him into a kiss, chaste and soft, and reassuring. “You’ll stay, won’t you? I’ll lend you a shirt.”

He knows his shirt would probably be a bit tight on him but if the alternative is Dimitri dressing up in his tight jeans and scampering out of their apartment like a mistress then he doesn’t want it. He is warm against them, comforting.

“Oh, I thought it was-” He starts, eyes betraying his surprise, “I thought you’d want me to go?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Felix says and he is gentle in a way he rarely is, throwing the covers over all three of them, “You can stay.”

“Oh,” He replies, “Thank you.”

And Dimitri does not need much prompting, going boneless and sleep heavy, tired and satisfied. His usually furrowed brow has smoothed out into a content expression, his lips curled. Sylvain presumes all of them must look similarly, fucked out and satiated. He throws a hand over Dimitri to grab Felix’s hand and Felix looks at him with a half-smile, as Dimitri settles between them, legs locking into Sylvain’s.

It’s the most comfortable he’s felt in quite a while.

**Author's Note:**

> i know this is a 10k explicit fic so this is a bit weird to write this. in the notes. on ao3. but i just wanted to say, making sylvain drop out and take 2 gap years is basically loosely based on the insecurity im feeling right now with MY academic break so i just want to say to anybody who is having the same problem. everything will eventually fall into place <3 take your time. and thank you for reading


End file.
